


To be fair, you're really hot

by peachpetrichor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, But for Reasons, College AU, Derek Wears Glasses, M/M, Stiles is an idiot, Tumblr Prompt, Unbeta'd, but ya know, derek is good, not my best work, some homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7655110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachpetrichor/pseuds/peachpetrichor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this tumblr post: http://shittyfanfictions.tumblr.com/post/148324273787</p>
            </blockquote>





	To be fair, you're really hot

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of shitty tbh. Will be editing typos as I notice them.

He’d responded to the ad at the end of his first semester at Columbia, because as cool as living in a college dorm seemed at first, he was really getting sick of the smell of weed and post drunken vomit. His sort of off again on again girlfriend, Heather, cried when he told her. Said she couldn’t handle a long distance relationship. He was moving maybe four miles away, but she insisted they break up anyway.

College, man.

He met the guy once, at the apartment, and while they didn’t exactly hit it off, Stiles couldn’t really say he cared. The rent was cheap, the place was nice and clean, and all his potential new roommate asked was that he was quiet at night and cleaned up after himself.

Stiles moved in three days later. 

Derek, was. . .well, Derek was okay. He was polite, he guessed, and professional, and finishing his doctorate in botany. So that was all pretty cool. It was just that when Stiles imagined a roommate, he imagined a potential friend. And Derek just wasn’t that. He rarely smiled, rarely spoke, and seemed content to ignore Stiles’ existence. 

Stiles considered the man thoughtfully over his economics homework one night. He didn’t know a lot about him, had only been living there for two weeks. Derek was twenty five, easily maintaining a 4.0, and seemed to spend most of his time reading or working on his dissertation. He kept everything clean and organized, always cooked for himself, and seemed to only ever leave the house with a gym bag in tow.

Stiles was nineteen, clinging helplessly to a 3.5, and only knew how to make coffee and grilled cheese. The salads and from frozen veggie burgers he used to make for his dad really didn’t count. A majority of his workouts consisted of not having a car to get around and losing his damn mind over trying to catch ‘em all over poke’mon go. He’d managed to keep the freshman 15 at bay, but the muscles he’d built up from lacrosse were slowly starting to become less defined. 

Which made it all the more annoying that Derek was so. . .so. Hot? It felt weird to think, but Stiles found himself acknowledging this as the truth nonetheless. There had been guys in high school that were pretty ripped, like Jackson and Scott, but Derek was all muscle. He also constantly had that ‘I haven’t shaved in a couple days’ thing going on, which shouldn’t have worked so well with his glasses, but lord did it.

Stiles wrinkled his nose, wondering briefly if Derek would have been his type if he was into guys. 

Nah.

Its throughout the next two weeks though, that Stiles discovers that Derek is, is in fact, the type of a few other guys though. Which is, he’s gotta say, not what he expected.

The first guy, Guy 1 Stiles decided to call him, was making his escape Just as Stiles was getting up. Guy 1 stopped, and they shared a few seconds of staring before he finished tugging on his shirt and left without a word. Stiles was still standing in the middle of the living room trying to figure out what the fuck he’d just witnessed, when Derek came out of his room and started making coffee in the kitchen a few minutes later.

Stiles felt himself redden when the realization started to sink into his groggy brain. He’d just witnessed the end of a one night stand, between two men, who were probably both gay.

“Oh,” was all he could manage as he watched Derek pad back to his room with coffee in hand, not seeming to notice, care about, or hear him. Stiles Promptly went back to bed.

It was easy to ignore whatever weird feeling he had about it all the longer he lived with Derek though. He woke up one morning to the mouth watering smell of cinnamon only to find that his roommate had left him a plate of french toast from his own breakfast.

Stiles beamed at him the next time Derek came out of his room, his cheeks full and eyes alight with gratitude. The smile and chuckle he got back were enough to make him feel fuzzy with warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. It was a welcomed feeling, if not a bit odd, but he chalked it up to the kind gesture.

Guy 2 was only a slight variation on the situation, maybe four days later, what with him stopping to pee before he left for good.

Stiles shook off his strange feeling again, and had all but forgotten a day later when he found Derek curled up on the couch in a soft looking sweater, asleep. His nose and ears were pink and sleep warm and his glasses were askew on his face, cheek heavy against a throw pillow with a book over his stomach. 

Stiles didn’t even think about marking the page in his book and tugging a blanket over him, but when he saw himself in the bathroom mirror later, he was shocked to find his own cheeks pink and his lips split into a fond smile. His stomach fluttered. He went to sleep.

At the end of the next week Stiles woke up to Derek awkwardly shooing guy 3 out of the apartment.

“So that was really fun,” guy three tried.

Derek just nodded and stretched his lips into a flat smile.

“Can I take you to breakfast?”

“I’m pretty busy,” was Derek’s gruff response. “But thanks.”

“Oh, then, I guess I should go. . .”

“Yeah.”

After a long, truly painful pause, Guy 3 sighed, turned on his heel, and left without another word. Stiles bit into his toast with gusto and refused to make eye contact with Derek as he went back to his room. 

He huffed out an irritated sigh and put his head in his hands.It shouldn’t have been affecting him as much as it was, but the more often Stiles witnessed these interactions between his gay roommate and one of his partners, the more disgruntled he felt.

The night before, he’d actually seen them coming home together. They’d come through the door, half-drunk and connected at the lips, and made their way to Derek’s room in a matter of seconds, leaving Stiles in the kitchen unnoticed and unable to stomach the rest of his banana. 

He’d been grossed out and angry for whatever reason, and spent a great deal of the night trying to shove those thoughts away. He wasn’t homophobic. He’d never had a problem with gay people. Danny had been gay, and Stiles hadn’t cared, right? He had been raised to be open minded and aware that people were all people regardless of their preferences or appearance.

So why the shit couldn’t he handle seeing it? Being around it? Living with it?

And why the fuck was he replacing homosexuality with ‘it’ in his head now?

He forced himself to let it go, ignore whatever weirdness he was feeling, and deal with it. He refused to be an asshole.

And that lasted right up until about a month later at two in the morning.

He’d been rushing to rewrite an essay due the next day, was angry that he had to rewrite the thing in the first place, and was all around exhausted, when he walked into the living room to find them kissing on the couch. 

He wasn’t even thinking, really, it just came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Do you two really have to do this shit out here?”

They snapped apart abruptly to look at him, Derek sending him a serious glare, and Stiles sent it right back.

Derek’s date, Guy 5, cleared his throat awkwardly and announced that he really needed to be getting home anyway.

Stiles only huffed and turned into the kitchen with the dude gathered himself up and left.

“What the hell was that?” Derek demanded a few moments later.

Stiles shrugged, stubbornly keeping his eyes on the apple he was eating. He was being an ass, he knew that, but for some reason he didn’t care.

“It was gross,” he grumbled around a full mouth. He regretted it immediately, realizing how that must have come off. 

“Excuse me?”

“I just- I didn’t- God, never mind!”

It was a blur pushing past Derek and sealing himself in his room, his breath ragged and heart thrumming in his chest. He couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, why he was being like this. He felt sick with himself, angry at his mouth, and for some reason angry at Derek.

He tried to imagine what his dad would say if he saw him acting like this, and shame filled his gut.

And Derek, Christ, Derek had to be fuming. He’d been letting Stiles eat his food, letting him live there for so little, and this was how Stiles chose to respond? By scaring off his date and and saying super offensive shit?

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, huffing in a deep breath and steeled himself to exit his room, spit thick when he swallowed it down. The carpet, that he’d thought was so soft before, felt like glass under his feet as he made his way back to the living room, eyes downcast and cheeks red.

He found Derek sitting cross legged on the couch, staring resolutely at the off television on the wall.

“I-”

“I think you should find somewhere else to live,” Derek said decisively.

“What? Wait-”

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with you living here. Two weeks should be plenty of time to find somewhere else.”

“Derek, please, let me-”

“You should probably let your next roommate know about your personal views, so that this isn’t a problem in the future-”

“No, no, god, no please. I’m not- I’m not like that I swear, I don’t-” he was choking on his words and Derek was rolling his eyes in disbelief. 

“I really can’t fathom what else you might have meant then. You don’t really have to say much else other than you think my being with another man is gross to get your point a cross.”

“Fuck dude I didn’t mean it like- like-”

“Then what the hell did you mean? Please, enlighten me.”

Stiles let his mouth open and close like a fish, unable to come up with a satisfactory response. Because of course that’s what he meant, but he hadn’t meant it.

“That’s what I thought.”

“No but its not what I think, its really not, I don’t know whats wrong with me lately. I just- I see you with these guys and I never thought I’d care but I get so- so-”

“I really don’t give a shit about how grossed out you feel, to be honest,” Derek supplied offhandedly.

“So fucking jealous!” he blurted finally.

Derek stared at him, and Stiles feels just as confused as his roommate looks.

“Oh my god I’m jealous. You’re so hot, and smart, and nice when you want to be, I’m fucking jealous- holy fucking shit I’m gay!”

Derek’s eyes bulged as Stiles began to hyperventilate. He hadn’t noticed the anxiety attack brewing in his stomach until it hit really. It’d been a while, him having finally felt settled in himself a couple weeks into college, and boy did he not miss the feeling of all of his organs caving into themselves.

He found himself vaguely aware that he was crying as Derek stood with his palms held up.

“Woah woah woah, calm down, please calm down,”

Stiles only stuttered about not being able to, his mouth to busy babbling coherently about his sexuality to form a proper sentence.

“But I’m not gay I’ve never liked men I like women but I obviously like you how could I not know I liked you how could i not know I’m gay have I always been gay of course I have you can’t just magically start being gay but I thought I liked sleeping with girls have I just been fucking lying to myself what the fuck is wrong with me how could I not know-”

Derek placed his hands on either side of Stiles’ face and tugged his head forward to look at him. “Breathe. You have to Breathe.”

Stiles sucked in a harsh gasping breath, hiccuping a sob on the way there.

“You can like more than one gender Stiles, its fine.”

He sobbed, still caught up in his exhaustion fueled anxiety, “but I’ve never-”

“That’s normal too. Its okay. Maybe you’ll never like a guy after this again, sexuality is complicated, its not your fault, and its not a bad thing.” He was rubbing soothing circles into Stiles’ cheek bones, and brushing away tears with his thumbs keeping his tone even and gentle.

They kept going like that, Stiles feeding his anxiety and Derek talking him down, until an hour had passed and Stiles breathing evened out, his tears having stopped coming maybe ten minutes before.

“I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry,” he mumbled finally. They were still standing in the middle of the living room pressed close to each other as Derek did his best to ease the residual tension out of his shoulders, sliding his hands back and forth lightly over his cotton short sleeves.

“Its okay.”

“Its not.”

“It wasn’t, but it is now.”

“I’ll move out.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles looked up, forced himself to train his eyes on Derek’s. He internally cursed himself for not noticing the way he loved their endless variety of color before.

“You don’t have to move out.”

“I’m attracted to you.”

Derek snorted. “You’re pretty matter of fact post anxiety attack, you know.”

Stiles sniffed. “Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”

Derek, in lieu of response, leaned in slowly, carefully, and brushed his lips against Stiles’, who stiffened immediately, eyes wide and pupils blown.

“That okay?”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m asking if you liked it Stiles.”

“I- Yes! But that was not okay!”

Derek, to his credit, managed not to laugh despite the way his amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “What happened to being attracted to me?”

“You were just on a date! I just stopped panicking, and, and I said some really shitty things, and. What the fuck!”

“I was actually supposed to be working on my dissertation with that guy, but he kissed me and I just went with it. I really wasn’t planning on taking it anywhere.”

“And you’re always bringing home one night stands and if we want to be roommates I can’t just do that, I mean that would be my first time with a dude, and I don’t even do one night stands with girls-” He’s interrupted for what is probably the hundredth time that night when Derek pinches his cheek.

“I’m single, I’m allowed to have a few one night stands between relationships. And I’m asking you to date me not sleep with me, calm down.”

“Quit telling me to calm- You want to date me?”

Derek let out another snort. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Stiles watched in awe as Derek’s eye brows threatened to meet his hairline. “You’re not very good at this.” Derek decides.

“But you’ve hardly ever talked to me since I moved in, and you’ve basically just spent the last hour watching me get snot all over myself.”

Derek let himself back up and sit back on the couch as he thought out his response. “I’m not the best with people. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you a lot, I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable by hitting on you since you were living here.”

Stiles felt himself redden again. “You wanted to hit on me?”

“You’re very cute.”

“I am not cute oh my god.”

Derek grinned in away that Stiles could only describe as wolfish. “The tip of your nose gets pink when you blush.” This of course, only made Stiles blush more.

“Let me take you out on a date. If it doesn’t work out we can just be friends,” Derek tried again, apparently determined.

Stiles could only nod shyly, amazed at the way that night had turned out. He was sleepy, and emotionally drained, but his chest was warm and his stomach was full of butterflies.

It was when Derek was leading him back to his room to get him to go to bed, hand on the small of his back, and satisfied smile on his face, that Stiles found himself blurting out, “To be fair to me, you look really hot in the morning when you come out of your room in only your sweats and glasses, so this revelation was basically inevitable.” Stiles decided to count it as a win when he hears Derek choke on air as he closes his door.

The date goes well.


End file.
